


Won't Leave You Alone

by GlorifiedFanfiction



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Gay, Human Experimentation, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, Spies & Secret Agents, flirting leads to fluff leads to ???, like it gets super gay a few chapters in i promise, lots of quality bant, lots of sass and shade, really charismatic villain because we all need one in our life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 17:12:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8761879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlorifiedFanfiction/pseuds/GlorifiedFanfiction
Summary: A typical Hero versus Villain story, except an unforeseen twist of events causes a shaky alliance to form between the two. 
As they get to know each other, it's revealed that their history goes further back than they realise, their complex relationship will test where their loyalties lie, and that you shouldn't go judging a book by its cover.
How can they trust each other when they don't know if they can trust themselves?





	

_Years_ of tracking this sly bastard. Fucking years of tailing and tracing and coming up with jack shit. Not a single lead. And all his connections are ridiculously loyal. I don’t know what dirt he’s got on them to have them wrapped around his pinkie, and I honestly have no clue as to what dirt he could have on me- but that’s what I’m here to find out.

I’m currently under the alias “Toby Miller”, a wealthy British plutocrat relocating to the US to escape tax evasion charges, who wishes to discuss the threat of the recently elected presidents’ agenda. I’ll be staying at The Crystal Towers Hotel, on the 39th floor, at the end of the North Wing. His room is on the 45thfloor, also at the end of the North Wing.

The emergency fire escape and private elevator down the corridor are the only way up to his room, and only authorised personnel have access. That means only butlers, house-keeping, approved guests, and our operative _posing as a butler_ are going to be in close proximity to him. The elevator’s how we get in. The fire escape’s how we get out. At every level a set of one-way doors ensure that the only way you can go is down. Another operative posing as a repairman worked on that problem the previous week, during a planned blackout. This means we can access the roof, where our target will be hauled off by chopper- accompanied by myself, of course.

 

* * *

 

I’m _not_ worried about the mission. I’ve been working ceaselessly on perfecting this assignment. From my accent to my body language. Heck- I’ve even rehearsed not making my every move look rehearsed. This is the first time we’re going to see each other face-to-face, and I’m making sure that _everything is perfect_. No- what I’m worried about is what comes after that. If he’s as tight-lipped as his associates, we won’t get a word out of him.

“ _I’m not worried about the mission._ ” I say, levelheaded, at the voice in my ear.

“Well go get ‘im tiger.” The voice says back. A signal to get ready. I shrug my suit jacket on.

A shrill ringing fills the silence of my hotel room. Nobody is supposed to know I’m here. _Something’s wrong_.

“Den, how’s the phone line looking?” I ask, trying to settle in to my new accent. I’m the only one who can hear the phones incessant ringing. My tooth-sized microphone is designed to block out background noise. 

“Phone lines are clear. Looking for a quick champagne to clear your nerves, are you?” He jests. I could definitely do with a drink about now, something a lot stronger than champagne though.

“I’m not worried about the mission.” I repeat. I tug on my tie.

_No, I’m worried about who the hell is on the other end of the phone._

 

* * *

 

 

The phone is still ringing, and I’m not one to keep people waiting.

I disconnect my wires from the communications network and pick up the phone.

“I would like to know who this is.” I say, asserting my position. I don’t want to piss this guy off, but I also don’t want to look like a pushover. There’s a small sigh on the other end of the line. It’s grainy and distorted, the way a song on a scratched record might sound.

“You need to work on the accent _Matthew._  You’re slipping.”

“What do you want from me?” There’s no point in playing dumb. He used my real name. This guy called for a specific purpose, and he sure as hell did his research beforehand.

“I want your assistance…Tonight you are going to try, and fail, to take down one of the most dangerous men in the world with some hair-brained scheme picked out by pathetic executives with no training in the field. I can’t let you fail.”

“What do you have that could convince me to trust you?” That sigh again. I’m starting to get annoyed at how disappointed this guy sounds with me.

“ _Mattie_ , your cover’s blown. Has been for weeks. You can quit while you’re ahead and follow my instructions, or you can blunder along on your foolish quest to take down the big bad villain- and fall on your ass. Think about it. If I know, how can he _not_?”  _Fuck._ He’s disappointed _and_ right.

I don’t say anything though, and he takes it as a sign to continue talking.

“Felix talks about you. He would make fun of a hot-headed agent that was constantly on his case, trailing him everywhere. He bragged about having inside men gathering info on every single one of your little missions.  _You’ve piqued his interest, Matthew._ I don’t know _why_ , but he’s taking dangerous risks. He’s letting you go along with this plan _just_   _to meet you_.”

I know where this is going. I think. My hand goes to squeeze the back of my neck. It’s a bad habit.

Felix has never been shy about his lovers. A string of both women and men, utterly devoted to him even after he leaves them. I’ve interrogated them before. If he was interested in me for information, he would have gotten it already. I’m hoping that this mysterious asshole is fucking with me, but he’s been right about everything so far.

The silence in my hotel room is deafening, but the glitchy static in my ear is becoming maddening.

“So, you’re saying, I’m to seduce him.”

The words come out clear and calm, but a million thoughts are colliding with each other in my head like atoms in a particle accelerator.

“If that’s what you’d like to call it. Yes, _you’re to seduce him_.”

The static clicks out into a flat-line. Whoever that was has said all he has to say.

 

* * *

 

I connect my wires back to the communication network and test the connection. It always works fine, but Den says it gives him a heart attack whenever I speak out of the blue. 

“Den, can you hold off on phase 1? And tell the raid team to prep at the stairway like we planned.” There’s a pause.

“Are you doing that thing you do where you don’t do what you’re supposed to do?”

“Yes.”

“…And does this thing you’re doing violate multiple rules and put you in the line of fire?”

“Absolutely.”

Den goes quiet. That’s usually a good sign.

“Gotcha covered boss. What’s next?”

“Tell the raid team I’m sorry.”

 

* * *

 

When I get to the emergency stairs it’s 10:32 PM. The Raid Team will be expecting me to bust through the 45th floor doors with Felix in tow any minute now. I’ll have to be discreet. 

I feel a little silly, peeking through windows to see if anybody is lurking nearby and closing doors as quietly as I can. I see a guy monitoring the perimeter a few meters ahead. I guess I can tick ‘sneaking around like a kid coming home from a party trying not to wake his parents up’ off of my list of things-I-should-have-done-as-a-teenager-but-am-instead-doing-as-an-adult. _I bet teenage me never envisioned me doing this._

I grab the agent by the collar with my left hand and wrap my right arm around his neck, squeezing the carotid artery with my forearm. _Control, you’re trying to knock him out- not decapitate him._ I loosen my grip and he slumps to the ground. In the ten or so seconds it took me to knock the guy out, I can hear two…no- three more agents barreling down the stairs. 

The first two agents aren’t armed, but the guy in the back is already pulling out his weapon. I’m strong, but a bullet is much faster. I have to do something they don’t anticipate. I get up onto the railing and hurl myself onto the steps behind them. My leg comes over to slam into someones head- I’m trying to buy myself some time. I can’t let anyone fire a gun and risk losing the element of surprise. 

When I’m in combat, time doesn’t slow down- my brain speeds up. Small bits of information stream into my mind at a mile-a-minute, stuff that I wouldn’t notice if I weren’t under pressure.

_The agent with the gun is still turning to adjust his aim- with me now behind him. His dominant hand is his right hand, so he’ll be turning counter-clockwise._

I lunge to the right and get behind him. My foot connects with the back of his shin, and he falls to his knees. As he’s twisting around to face me I knee him in the general nose area. I can’t tell. I’m not really thinking anymore. His head slams into the wall with a _crack_ that makes me feel a little bit guilty. _I’ll send him a fruit basket in hospital. And a card._

I grab the gun and slam it into the one agent that isn’t incapacitated, aiming for the temple. The blunt butt of the gun works perfectly. The guy is out cold. 

_Whoever I knocked out before will be getting up by now._ Yup, he’s up but staggering. Swaying a little. He seems to recognize me and see’s what’s coming. _Best to put him out of his misery as humanely as possible._ His eyes squeeze shut before he slumps to the ground. A decent sidesweep’ll do that to a guy.

I pocket the gun. If that creep on the phone is wrong, I’ll need it.


End file.
